Some Fairytale
by Rose Wyrm
Summary: The saloon could hardly be called a tower, and they are the worst fit for the roles on God's glowy green irridated earth, but Nova is still waiting, dreaming of her prince. Squinty hints of Nova/Charon.


Some Fairytale

Nighttime in Megaton and Nova is busy. She is putting on a show, not much of one, but enough that Johnnie-boy feels like he's getting his money's worth. Of course, he probably doesn't care much. There was nothing like ceremony or whatever they called the shit that came before paid sex in the way he took her, not even something so small as her stripping slowly for him before they began. Now he is thrusting gracelessly and making the most ridiculous sounds, almost like molerat grunts, a gross counterpoint to her quiet but still theatrical noises of pleasure. It's almost nice having a take-charge kind of guy – it means she doesn't actually have to do that much, but she'd still hoped to get some real sleep tonight and so wishes he'll finish up soon.

Pulling him closer, she lets her heated exhales turn into full-fledged moans. Her fingernails bite into his back, trail over his arms, and he grabs her thin hips, whatever tempo he had dissolving. It was perverse as fuck, but Nova's almost proud that no one could ever say she wasn't good at her job. Arching her spine and pressing her lips to the crook of his neck presses her breasts flush to his chest, and she nips him, gently. His movements get even more erratic and Nova screws her eyes shut, trying to see someone else's face, a ghoul's face for which she has no name, as Johnnie comes with a harsh, ragged sigh before rolling off and flopping over into sleep.

It takes some time for her to cudgel herself into getting up. It's nice to lay back in the dark, pretend she's the only one there and let the soreness fade, let the hormones and the drowsy take the edge off. But she can't lurk forever. This isn't her room, she just comes with it and it's not so late that Moriarty won't drag her back downstairs so she can earn a little more before he closes up. So she gathers up her clothes and puts them back on and goes down to the bar, with only a bathroom pit stop to delay her further.

"Hey, hon," she calls down to Gob, with a smile that doesn't make her tired eyes.

"You okay? Guy seemed a little rough, bullshittin' around down here.

"No, no. Business as usual is all. You know."

Gob gives her a look like sympathy as she trots down the stairs. Nova suspects he feels her job is even worse than his, despite the outright abuse he faces. Of course, the poor boy hasn't been truly touched in what must be ages, so she can't really say. Seeing Gob's face brings back the face of the nameless ghoul, the one she's been thinking of for what must be weeks now. Almost absentmindedly she looks to the door, face slightly expectant.

She wouldn't confess it to anyone, but Nova is waiting for a most unlikely prince, a knight in grimy leather armor. Well, he's probably closer to a squire, at least the way business between him and Mr. One-Oh-One stands - but she doesn't care to examine the metaphor overly closely. It makes her feel foolish, thinking of it in such fairy tale terms, especially when she's too damn old to be playing princess and she knows he can't rescue her. It's a stupid, drippy little girl fantasy, not at all grounded in any sort of reality or reason. But fuck, daydreaming gives her that ever-desired something better to do and God knows she's never asleep to dream at night.

She lit up a cigarette, replacing the fast fading lull of post-coitus with a nicotine buzz. Rocking back against the wall, she keeps her eyes wistfully on the door, remembering the day the Vaultie first stepped through with his stalwart ghoul manservant. The sight of him had clammed up the whole bar, and no one had relaxed until his king of the moral compass employer realized that a big ghoul with a big gun could make people uncomfortable. Nova found herself smiling slightly at the memory of him being quietly sent off to the corner, one she just so happened to be occupying, to be unobtrusive, whereupon he gave the whole saloon the most badass stinkeye that ever was. She also recalled realizing at that moment why people feared ghouls that weren't feral. All she'd ever known was sweet little Gob and yes, she had spooked when she first saw Gob, but he'd been easy to like, young by ghoul standards and with surprisingly more skin then than now.

Nova takes a particularly long drag and breathes out a plume of smoke that lingers in the hazy light, light that hardly reaches her spot on the wall. She frowns at the dark, and shifts her weight.

She recalls being uneasy at the presence of this tall, lean 'n mean ghoul, suddenly in her space, who would not for whatever reason speak to her beyond grunts and short, noncommital phrases. Her speech soon ended up as curt as his, and she'd been sure of her cemented dislike. Yet it had slowly grown, through the Vaultie's visits into something like a rapport. They had an understanding sprung of brief whispered ancedotes and silent evenings in a dark smoky corner. Nova had found herself admiring this guy who was tough as nails and still somehow sympathetic for the circumstances of his employment, strangely similar to hers. In fact, she was pretty sure that everything had begun when he'd kindly pointed out that she was a whore. Bizzare that she'd never gotten his name, not even when he'd talked about coming up from the Underworld.

The Underworld. Fuck her sideways, she was dumb.

"Hey Gob?" she asks, stubbing out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar.

"Yeah? Whattya need?"

"You come from the Underworld, right? You know the name of the guy Vaultie-boy has following him around?"

"Him?" Gob frowned, just a little. "That's Charon. Never knew him well. He bounced at a bar that competed with Mom's, so... Y'know." He shrugged. "Got any reason for asking?"

"Mm? Oh, no reason. Just curious. Thanks, sugar."

Charon. Charon. She rolled it around silently on her toungue. Gob had said it like Sharon, the woman's name. Hmm. Charon. Sharon.

Shit, it still beat out Charming.

* * *

A/N: I'm pretty sure this was the first Nova/Charon ever. I feel like such a pioneer. XD

Sorry for the wierdo present tense thing. It just happened that way.

Reveiw please?


End file.
